


The Price of Sheep

by Enk



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Getting Together, Iceland, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki decides he's had enough of being imprisoned in Stark Tower, he drags Tony into the wilderness of Iceland. When his environment isn't trying to kill him, Tony is trying to figure out just why Loki has insisted to drag him along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price of Sheep

**Author's Note:**

> The environment has been inspired by [Þórsmörk](http://danny.oz.au/travel/iceland/p/3554-thorsmork.jpg)and the general amazing beauty of Iceland. I`ve been there a couple of times now, but I apologize for any geographic discrepancies.
> 
> Special thanks to my fantastic artist who created two wonderful amazing pieces which I have embedded into the story. To leave some love, please use this link [here](http://swevenzre.tumblr.com/post/101514804023/i-was-a-pinchhitter-for-the-frostiron-bang-and-i)

 

“Goodbye, Stark.” Loki walks- quite nonchalant for someone who is technically imprisoned here in Stark Tower- past Tony and toward the elevator door.

 

“Uh,” Tony looks up from the Black Russian in his coffee cup. Loki is wearing- what the hell is he wearing? The guy looks like a hipster-mountaineer cum fisherman complete with a woollen knit hat and a thick, well-groomed beard rivalling- no, surpassing- Thor's. Loki. A beard. Tony doesn't mean to laugh, even without his powers Loki has a mean left hook should he decide to use it

 

“Okay Rudolph,” he coughs, hoping it'll mask the snorting laugh, “where the hell did you find...that? Been on another Amazon spree? You know how much I love it when you steal my credit card... over and over again.”

 

Loki gives Tony a long look, but says nothing and turns back to the elevator. Oh. He does mean the whole leaving bit.

 

“You know you can't actually leave, right?” Tony leans against the counter and watches as Jarvis, ever polite, denies Loki access. “Just to recap, and correct me if I'm wrong: thirty six months ago you got your ass handed to you; Thor saved you from Daddy's decision to chain you to a mountain and stripped you of your powers instead. And now you're living quite a cozy life as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s prisoner of war in my penthouse apartment, which by the way, real fucking generous of me.” He takes another drink and continues before Loki can respond. “Two conditions are keeping you from Chez Les Montagnes, my megalomaniac friend: cooperation with the aforementioned S.H.I.E.L.D and you don't have the power to leave without us finding you.”

 

Loki shoulders his bag... and laughs, as though he's thoroughly entertained. Tony loathes not being in on a joke and downs the remaining contents of his mug and glares.

 

“Pardon,” Loki smiles, “I thought your soliloquy finished. My apologies, continue.”

 

“All right,” Tony grinds his teeth, “you had your fun, back to your 5-star cell.”

 

“Do you not get bored, Stark? Here you are, the Iron Man, a hero amongst mortals reduced to little more than someone else's brother's keeper.”

 

“That's what you're going with?” Tony raises an eyebrow.

 

“They think of you as no more than a common addict with the occasional capability of minor heroism.”

 

“Do I need to get the muzzle again?” Tony tries to ignore Loki's words. Liesmith. Nothing but trouble. He almost regrets insisting that chains and muzzle were not needed. “Come on, time to go back upstairs.:

 

He grabs Loki's arm, rough and determined. Loki with powers is intimidating as hell, outright terrifying if Tony is honest. Loki without powers? Well, he's just another overgrown asshole. Tony can handle assholes, even ones with fake beards and-

 

“If you are so insistent,” Loki practically purrs at Tony. A sly grin written across his face. “Perhaps you wish to accompany me?”

 

Oh yeah, Tony can see where this is going: the guy needs an escape route, an accomplice to get out of the tower without all of S.H.I.E.L.D. on his ass.

 

“I don't think so.”

 

“Really?” Loki extracts himself from Tony's grip. “We are both caged animals, Stark. Only you do not perceive your cage as such.” He smiles. “I am offering you-”

 

“I'm not helping you escape!”

 

Loki chuckles.

 

Tony hates him and his stupid beard. He needs another drink and a call to Fury about those chains.

 

“Not escape,” Loki extends his hand. “Merely a brief diversion.”

 

Don't believe him. Don't let him get to you. Whatever you do, don't agree. Tony narrows his eyes.

 

“Fine.”

 

God damn it.

 

“Let me make this clear.” Tony continues because he knows you cannot give Loki an inch. “Brief is the key operator here. You're getting an hour outside on the ground to stretch your legs. No more. Let me reprogram your tracking bracelet.”

 

“As you wish.” Loki extends his arm and Tony doesn't trust his compliance for a moment. He grabs Loki's wrist tight. Reprogramming doesn't take long and when he's done he tests that it won't come off easily, again, just in case. “Are you satisfied with your device?”

 

“Hey, I know you.” Tony points. “Even without powers, you're slippery as hell.”

 

“You are ready then?”

 

“No, but if it will shut you up, we can get going.”

 

Tony turns toward the elevator, but Loki grabs his wrist and pulls him back hard. The brief moment Tony has to struggle, he notices two things: the ease with which Loki fights back and the beard is real. The world dissolves before his eyes, Loki's hand like a vice around his wrist. Then... darkness.

 

The air is cool on Tony's face. No, make that cold, really cold. He opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is his breath. Before Tony stretches an incredible vista. He's never seen anything like it before, jagged mountains, earthy brown with remnants of snow clinging to the shaded faces of the steep slopes. The valley between them them is green, a surprising green muted and lush at the same time. Tony isn't sure it could compare to anything he knows. There's a stream, no, they're high up, it must be a river braiding its way across a plain that stretches past the valley and as far as Tony can see. In the distance, the golden rays of the sun spreads in a down-burst of light that may be a lake or an ocean reflecting the light.

 

The sky isn't even blue. It's grey, clouds are heavily textured, but they and the sun have decided to band together and paint the landscape, bathe it in stark contrasts of light and shadow in ways Tony can only describe as artificial in its aesthetic perfections like the damn landscape knows what its doing. It's too real, too vibrant, and either Loki has brought them fuck knows where across the universe or he's pulling some major Cylon projection skills.

 

“Where the hell are we?” He tries to make himself sound more annoyed than he is. “Did you seriously lie about your powers all this time and then end up showing me anyway by dragging me across the universe?”

 

“Oh Stark,” Loki's smirk is bemused, the bastard, “I assure you we are still very much on your precious Earth.”

 

Yeah right. Nothing like this exists on Earth. That's not the point though and Tony can't imagine that Loki's oblivious to that. So why doe the guy deliberately play obtuse? What just happened is huge. _Huge_. Odin's supposed to have taken Loki's powers. That was supposed to be the punishment all parties had agreed upon. Well, not Loki, Loki had argued they should just let him go. Point is, he's not supposed to have powers. And yet, all this time, all the times Tony's talked to him like he couldn't have killed him in an instant. Tony can feel the colour drain from his face.

 

“Do not be so worried. If I had wanted you dead, well....” Loki doesn't finish that sentence. He doesn't have to. He doesn't have to say anything. Tony understands. Loki's got the power here. No one's coming to find him, not with the snug and secure tracking bracelet gone.

 

“So what,” he crosses his arms as the chill of the air settles on his skin, “you're going to demand a ransom? Leave me here to find my way back or die? What game are we playing today?”

 

This isn't the first 'game' they've played. Loki's a jerk who gets bored. A creative jerk, Tony gives him that The guy figured out how to reprogram Dummy and at least a half dozen other small projects in Tony's labs. Of course, he'd never admitted to it, but Tony knows and Jarvis did confirm Loki's presence in the labs. And then there was the time when Loki had replaced all the Scotch with tea. Terrible cheap cold tea. And then there was the time when- with grave voice- Loki had told him that Clint Barton had been found dead. As he was wiping blood off his hands.

 

That had been the end of prank time. While they had eventually found Clint in his apartment in nothing but his underpants, playing video games, and eating Cheez-its, the whole pretending he's killed Clint thing didn't go over well. SHIELD insisted Loki be locked in solitary until Clint was found and after he'd been found, well SHIELD had forgotten the key to the cell for another week. After that, there had been an uneasy truce. Sure, Tony had reprogrammed all the locks and the doorways give an unpleasant jolt of electricity to the tracking band every time Loki went somewhere he wasn't supposed to.

 

Two were able to play that game. Only that hadn't been the game after all. The game is that Loki has his powers. Presumably all of them. Sure, he doesn't have his magical glow stick, but from what Tony's been told, even without it the guy packs a massive punch in the supernatural skills department. Hell, even assuming he had no powers wrestling that truce out of Loki had almost been impossible. Almost.

 

“When you have finished conjuring up more reasons as to how I could have possibly brought you here, perhaps you would like to seek shelter with me. A storm approaches..”

 _Approaches_. That's cute. Not five minutes later, they are drenched in the coldest, heaviest rain Tony has ever seen. Or rather can't see. He can barely keep his eyes open when the wind picks up and whips the water in his face. He can't see the landscape that had just been before his eyes. He can't even see the next step he takes.

 

He can't see his next step, but he can feel the ground shift and crumble away beneath his shoe, feels his leg suddenly pulled by gravity. He tries to twist, to throw himself back toward the ground to gain some kind of traction and claw himself back up onto some kind of safety. It's then that he realizes his other foot is in the air and there is no ground beneath his feet or any part of him. His heart beats heavily, rapidly in his chest. His spine is electrified as his brain fires on all cylinders. Adrenaline pumps through him in a desperate attempt to avoid the inevitable.

 

This is it. He's going to die. He's going to plummet to his death because he tripped and fell. Before he can curse Loki, he feels pressure on his forearm and the world suddenly shifts and the his whole body slams into the rocks. There he hangs, Loki's hand firmly wrapped around his forearm. Breath comes shuddering from Tony's lips, his heart still pounds but slowly begins to settle. His head hurts, no, make that his whole body. His mouth is dry save for the blood pooling under his tongue which he must have bitten when he slammed into the rock face.

 

“Stark!” Loki shouts over the howling wind and rain. “While I do possess strength greater than any mortal man, do attempt to make an effort instead of hanging there like a sack of grain.”

 

Right. Still alive. In the end, Loki does all the work anyhow, but at least Tony tried. It's not as though Tony climbs mountains on a regular basis or really works out anymore. He has a suit for that after all. The most cardio he gets these days comes from briskly walking to the bar for a refill or fucking whatever conquest of the night he's found ever since Pepper- He doesn’t need to shake off the thought because Loki’s proximity pushes it from his mind. The guy crouches beside him like he’s actually concerned.

 

“Thanks.” He manages to wheeze when he kneels on the ground safe once more.

 

“The path down may be long,” Loki stays beside him, “but I would not recommend that particular shortcut.”

 

Loki's lip twitches. Tony stares at him for a few beats, completely drenched, out of breath, scraped to hell, but fuck, he's alive and Loki, stuck up Princeling of Asgard, just cracked a joke. It's ridiculous. Tony's who the fuck knows where, almost died falling from a fucking mountain, he's probably going to catch a lung infection in this weather. But fuck if he doesn't feel more alive than he has in a long time. So, he laughs, which startles Loki and that just makes the whole situation even funnier. He laughs and laughs until the rain on his face mixes with tears.

 

“Come on,” Loki gets up and extends his hand to help Tony up, "shelter, let's go."

 

It's not like Loki has any sort of stakes in Tony's welfare and yet he stays close, much closer than earlier. So close he sometimes brushes against Tony and that's not the sort of thing he expected from Thor's brother of all people. Of course, Loki walks on the outside, leaves Tony on the inside of the path as they descend from the mountain. Leaves him close to the mountain and away from the sheer drop on the other side. Sure, the _other side_ is merely three, maybe four steps to the right. Not much of a difference but Loki seems to think it will keep Tony from taking any further short cuts and hey, Tony's okay with that. He doesn't feel like a repeat performance.

 

The descent is rough, slow going because the path is washed out, slippery, covered with rocks that had been washed down and a few times it looks as though a landslide had just about taken out the way. At least the rain has let up enough that Tony can somewhat see what they're up against. It doesn't take very long for his shoes to be filled with mud and the tiny rocks that feel like walking on jagged, hot coals even though they are only the fraction of the size of a dime. His pants tear some time between climbing through the landslide debris and sliding down a good portion of the path on his ass when he loses footing.

 

Beside him, Loki doesn't have half as bad a time as Tony appears to be having. It's ridiculous how graceful the guy is when he slips and catches himself instantly and a few moments later is there to keep Tony from another unfortunate demise, hand firmly wrapped around Tony's biceps, the other firmly against his lower back and hip to steady him. He's so close, Tony can feel the warmth radiate from him even though only Loki's hands are touching. The few seconds they stand like this in silence suddenly feel stretched and some quiet part of Tony's brain contemplates leaning back against the touch. Before it can have a discussion with the rest, Loki slowly lets go, but not before looking at Tony, no doubt to make sure he's steady.

 

"I do believe I said no more short cuts." He smiles in a way he thinks Tony can't read, but Tony can. They've been unwilling roommates long enough to Tony to have picked up on at least a few of Loki's non-event facial expressions. The guy either over-emotes to distract from his true emotions or he tries to be as stoic as possible. He's good, Tony can admire that. But he isn't good enough to fool Tony. Not after spending months at the tower. Not when Tony's the extrovert extraordinaire. He's made a living out of being able to read people, even back in the day when he sold weapons to anyone willing to pay.

 

"I remember," Tony tries to catch his breath, "but my legs don't seem to have read the memo."

 

"The shelter I spoke of," Loki doesn't mock Tony and that's oddly surprising, "it is close. Around the next bend."

 

As it turns out, Loki didn't exaggerate or undersell anything this time. Around the next bend, the area flattens, not by much but enough to allow for a level area large enough to put a small- and very vibrantly bright orange- hut against the mountain sheltered a little by an overhang. It's by no means looking particularly inviting or large or something that could be considered a more than emergency shelter. Really, the thing looks like it's about to be blown away by the next strong gust of wind.

 

"Icelanders," Loki opens the door and nods for Tony to enter, "a very trusting people. Even in the most remote and adverse regions of their island, they find a way to build a shelter for any whom may find themselves lost."

 

"We're in Iceland?!" Tony does duck into the hut and fuck does it feel good to be out of the rain. So good. And then he realizes he is freezing cold. That's not good. Before he can say anything else, his teeth begin to chatter uncontrollably. He can't stop. He's wet and chilled to the bone and this is the worst idea Loki has ever had, possibly worse than trying to invade New York.

 

The inside of the hut is small, but whomever built it has made the space as efficient as humanly possible. There is a cot on the floor barely large enough to fit a whole person on it. A chair in the corner beside what looks to be a small stove or oven. There's wood beside it, so at least they'll have warmth. Warmth, warmth is a good idea. Tony tries to walk over to the stove but his legs refuse to work. Again. Oh great. He's probably a shivering mess.

 

“Mortals,” Loki kneels beside the stove and places some pieces of wood into it. “You are too fragile for your own good.”

 

Tony is pretty sure that Loki doesn't use the matches and lighter provided to light the fire. There's a soft green glow and then the hut fills with the scent of burning wood and most importantly: warmth. Tony should get out of his clothes. He can't make his body sit, and his legs refuse to stand any longer. He goes down and it isn't graceful. Fortunately, he hits the cot, so when his back and head impact with the wall of the hut, it is with much less force than expected. Okay, he's got this. He's got this. With shaking fingers does he manage to take off his shoes and socks and he manages the first few buttons of his shirt before fatigue settles in his bones. Fingers turn into lead, and he can barely even lift his arms.

 

It's not that Loki comes to his rescue, but there's a soft sigh from Loki who sits beside Tony on the cot. There's a small package in his hand which he rips open and places it in Tony's palm. In moments, warmth spreads through his fingers. Iron oxide packets to keep fingers, feet, and really any other body part warm. It's like the person who stocked this hut had thought of everything. Tony holds the small packet with both hands and focuses on the warmth until his fingers soften again, until he can move them again. He is still incredibly tired, but now, he can manage to unbutton the rest of his shirt and slowly pull it off. His pants, well, Loki has to help there and Tony really doesn't want to think about that moment ever again. He'd fight the guy off, tell him he can undress himself, joke about needing to be bought dinner first, but he's so incredibly tired.

 

"Drink this." Loki holds a mug of something under Tony's nose. It looks like tea. When did he have time to make tea? How long has Tony stared off into the distance? "It will help."

 

Slowly, Tony takes a sip and then another. It tastes like it could have been tea, the liquid is a pale yellow-green. The flavour is subtle, smokey. It is unlike any tea Tony had ever tried before and when Loki explains that it's really just moss and birch because Iceland? Not so much with the tea plantations. At any rate, Tony continues to sip the tea. It's warm, it feels nice sliding down Tony's throat and warming him from the inside out. Doesn't matter that it tastes like grassy socks. He makes it halfway through the cup before he can no longer fight the fatigue, before his body demands that he finally get some rest. He tries to keep his eyes open, to keep from nodding off, but when Loki takes his mug- why is he acting so... so unlike Loki?- Tony slides down the wall and onto the cot, head easily finding the surprisingly soft pillow. Finally. Rest. He doesn't think about why Loki would make sure he's covered with a blanket before he falls asleep. He just takes it and snuggles into it.

 

When Tony awakes, he smells coffee. For a brief moment, he thinks he must have frozen to death but then he feels the pillow under his head, the blanket on his skin, and every sore muscle, every bruise, every cut and scrape. It hurts. It hurts so much, but it means he's alive and alive is something he can deal with. Alive is something he can handle. He likes being alive. Despite what the other Avengers may think, he isn't suicidal. Lacking judgement perhaps but never suicidal. He doesn't want to die. And he isn't as of this point in time dead and despite all, that's a good thing. Loki- Loki should be somewhere around here. Tony sits up with great care and looks around the hut. There isn't much space to look around and in moments he can definitively say that Loki isn't there.

 

Well shit.

 

Briefly, Tony contemplates using the two-way radio he sees on a shelf on the opposite of the hut, a whole two steps away from him. Two-way radio means contact with civilization. They're in Iceland- if Loki hasn't told another lie. Iceland is civilized. For the most part. Maybe not the part they're currently in but that radio means he has contact with the more civilized part of the island. That's a good option to have, but not one he is about to take. There's a chest under the radio shelf. Tony's stomach growls. Maybe there's food in there.

 

"Jackpot." He hisses through his teeth when he sees that indeed there is food. In the form of dried instant noodles, granola bars, and all the prepared and non-perishable goodness, and right at this moment, it's the most amazing food Tony has ever seen. He tears into the box of granola bars and scarfs down two before looking beneath the layer of food. Yup, Tony's won the lottery. Dry clothes. The pants are too long and a little too tight. The shirt is too baggy and in the end Tony feels a bit like he should be on the cover of a romance novel or folk metal album. But the clothes are dry and warm and if he's lucky, he can dry his sneakers near the stove before Loki comes back from wherever it is he went.

 

If Loki comes back. There still is the chance that he's grown bored of whatever he had in mind here and moved along to something else, something better, something more entertaining than Tony shivering and drooling on himself in his sleep. It is a distinct possibility that Loki isn't coming back. And yet, Tony believes that he will. Loki's been acting weird at best, but in all of this, he's been consistent in saving Tony's ass and not getting them both killed. Why this is still eludes Tony, but he's sure if he sticks around he is going to find out.

 

Granola bar three means Tony starts to feel the sudden sugar intake, the amazing feeling of something solid settling into his stomach. Dry and warm, but incredibly sore Tony leans back against the wall and closes his eyes. He must have drifted off back to sleep because he awakens again when the door to the hut opens and a draft of cool air rushes over him. Slowly he opens his eyes and for a moment, he thinks someone else has come in the door, because fuck, he forgot Loki is still sprouting that beard, that hat, that ensemble. It's not as amusing today when everything hurts. Everything is a lot less amusing today. Tony feels like crap.

 

"This was a shitty idea, buddy," his ribs hurt when he sits up again and worse, he can feel Loki's eyes on him, watching his every move. What _is_ the guy's deal?

 

"You did nearly die yesterday." There's something in Loki's voice Tony can't quite pinpoint, something... guilt, it's guilt. Barely there but there it is.

 

"And whose fault is that?" Tony doesn't need to drive the point home. He wants to. For just this brief moment, he wants to be vindictive, angry, and let out his frustration. Doesn't matter that he's only feeling the frustration because he's mad at himself for everything. Mad at himself for allowing things to go this South physically, emotionally, hell, Loki's right about him being grounded most of the time these days. Sure, it's under the guise of 'someone has to watch Loki', but that's not it. Any of them could watch a powerless Loki. Only one of them is a raging alcoholic who doesn't deal well. That's him. Poster child of dysfunction.

 

"I will help you return to New York."

 

"You're just gonna zap me back? Like that?" Tony squints at Loki who still stands in the doorway. This is one of those too good to be true scenarios. He really would love a drink and a cheeseburger the size of head right now.

 

"No," of course not. "I cannot go back. They now know about my powers and Thor will do everything in his power to get me back. I am _not_ going back." The tone in Loki's voice is sharp on that last sentence. It's finite, never going to change his mind on that. When did reading Loki become that easy?

 

"So what is the plan?" Tony should insist that Loki just bring him back, but with powers, the guy doesn't have to listen to him. Didn't have to listen to him this whole time, but Tony wants to go home, so he isn't going to press the issue. His captor decided he's having some kinds of second thoughts or maybe dragging Tony further through the wilderness is more work than he could have fathomed. No matter the reason, Tony will be on his way home. Somehow.

 

"There is a road at the bottom of these mountains. It is well traversed and you should find someone to take you to the nearest town and your way home from there."

 

"You're seriously dropping all your fancy pants plans to get a ransom out of kidnapping me and giving me back without telling anyone about it?"

 

"You assume too much about why I took you along." Loki sighs and holds up a rabbit. A dead rabbit. "I should have clarified when I asked you to come with me. I'll be outside making breakfast. You require proper food before I can take your pain and we continue our descent."

 

“Take my pain?” Tony makes his way to the door a lot slower and maybe he should have waited because as he steps out of the hut, Loki dumps the intestines of the rabbit into a shallow ditch he's dug out of the dirt and loose rubble.

 

"Thor did not tell you about _all_ my powers then." Loki chuckles, but he doesn't look at Tony either. He's playing nonchalant and better-than-you again. Tony manages not to sigh.

 

"Well, there was the assumption that your daddy-"

 

"Odin is not my father!" Loki spits and this time he does look at Tony and those eyes are filled with rage. Massive daddy issues then, Tony gets that.

 

"Sorry," he means it. Daddy issues are rough. "Odin was supposed to have taken all your powers away, but that didn't pan out it seems. So, I suppose Thor didn't think it was important."

 

"Thor doesn't think." There's a sickening sound when Loki pulls the skin off the rabbit in a single motion. Tony's going to stick with granola bars for breakfast. "He is his father's son. My powers are not of Asgard. He cannot simply 'take' them as you so put it."

 

That's the most Loki's ever told anyone about him. He's spilled all the secrets on all the enemies they were about to face. Intimate details on weapons capability, combat strategy, heck even biology and what the hell they need to survive. All that he's given up in exchange to not be punished the way Odin had seen fit: chained to a mountain with ravens eating his eyeballs. But never once had Loki mentioned anything about himself. He's spoken of the Jotuns and their powers. Tony knows Loki's heritage, but he isn't that either now, is he? He's something else entirely, something Tony doesn't yet understand. Supposedly, it's magic, but he doesn't buy that for a second. Loki has powers, yes, but they're all rooted in some kind of science. And that is highly fascinating. However, Loki's brows are still furrowed and maybe it is time to change the subject.

 

"How'd you make fire last night? You didn't touch the lighter or the matches." Maybe not the topic Loki was going to go for but hey anything at this point.

 

"Like this." Loki extends his hand toward the small pile of firewood he must have taken from the hut before he had left. It is a very small pile with bits of dried vegetation surrounded by evenly sized rocks. A green light forms in Loki's palm and turns into green flame when the energy detaches and hits the small pile. The subsequent fire looks completely normal, completely like regular fire. And there's a chance Tony has a raging science boner right now.

 

"So, energy bursts," he sits down on a rock far enough from Loki to not get a whiff of the rabbit entrails. "How do you channel it? Is it a metabolic thing? Do you have to think about it or does it come naturally? And how do you control, say, magnitude to keep from instantly incinerating something? I'll assume fire isn't all you can do." He's babbling, of course he is. This is what Tony lives for. Science and puzzles and Loki is currently both. So, he forgets about the pain and asks a billion questions through his rambles and Loki even answers some of them, few of them, well maybe two, but it's still more than Tony knew before and if Loki answers two, he'll eventually answer three and four and five and so on.

 

Loki cooks the rabbit on hot rocks as opposed to over the flame. That's interesting. Tony still doesn't want to eat it. So what if it was already dead? He'd seen it fluffy and cute- though still dead- and he could have imagined it wiggling its nose at them. And then, Loki had taken apart the cute and fluffy wiggle nose and cooked it over the fire. When he hands him a leg, Tony tries not to gag. When the smell of thyme rises to his nose-

 

"You seasoned it?"

 

"I'm not a barbarian, thank you." Loki looks up from his half of the rabbit. "Of course I seasoned it. I am not my brother."

 

For a few beats, Tony watches Loki tense. It's only in his jaw but he can see Loki grind his teeth before taking a rather vigorous bite out of his half of the rabbit. Okay, so maybe he's better off not saying anything about their relationship there. Sore spot and all. Not that Tony blames Loki on that one. So, he keeps his mouth shut and merely offers a slight shrug of his shoulders, which Loki seems to accept and they continue to eat in silence.

 

“You did not call for help.” Loki notes when he has sucked the marrow out of the last bone- ew- and tosses them into the small pit where the guts already are.

 

“Didn't think I was in need of help.”

 

The smile that plays around Loki's lips is barely there. In fact, if Tony hadn't looked at him at the exact moment that he does, he would have missed it. But he doesn't and it's a weird thing to see. Usually, Loki's smiles are exaggerated, grimaces really, something to mock Tony and Thor and everyone around him, a defence mechanism. This isn't that kind of a smile. It's barely a twitch of a lip, but it's there and it's genuine. Tony doesn't quite know what to make of that or the odd sort of warm feeling that creeps up somewhere behind his sternum. Despite everything, nearly falling to his death and all, he's comfortable.

 

Comfortable, he's surprised that is possibly around Loki in the middle of nowhere on a chilly early spring morning somewhere near the Arctic Circle. But here he is. After they finish eating and Loki buries the bones and the remnants of the fire with a few kicks of his boot, he looks at Tony and crouches beside him. He takes Tony's arm and pulls up the shirt to expose finger shaped bruises from the previous day. He doesn't say anything and doesn't look at Tony again as he- gentler than Tony expects- traces his fingers over the bruises before drawing runes that glow green for a moment before they vanish into Tony's skin. Warmth spreads through him and the pain behins to ebb. Loki's hand lingers for a few moments and this time Tony can't help but lean toward the touch. And Loki? Loki still holds Tony's arm, thumb brushing gently against the skin. Tony tilts his head and catches Loki's gaze.

 

“We shall leave as soon as you are dressed.” Loki says all of a sudden and stands like nothing just happened.

 

The moment is gone, but so are Tony's stiff and sore muscles. He feels better. Not fantastic or great, but better. Tony layers up his clothes and puts on a big coat found in the hut. When he asks who the things here belonged to, Loki waves his hand and explains that it's a thing they do for tourists who like to get lost. Probably not exactly the truth, but Tony's warm, his feet are dry, and he isn't going to complain about that.

 

The climb down the mountain is easier in the sunshine than it had been in the pouring rain. However, Tony would be hard pressed to say it is a _lot_ easier. It's not. It's still hard work climbing down a path he is now convinced has never been meant for people, but rather mountain goats. Ridiculously agile mountain goats. Loki laughs when he tells him that and Tony almost falls down he's so taken aback by a laugh, a genuine laugh, from Loki, like they're actually just having a day out, hiking in the mountains. It is beautiful. The horrible weather forgotten, the valley that stretches before them is still utterly breath taking. And every so often, Tony just has to stop and look over the landscape, feel the wind across his face, the sun on his skin. He takes a deep breath and for a moment, he can simply be.

 

And Loki? Loki doesn't stop him. Instead, he stands beside Tony and looks over the same landscape, wind in his hair- and beard, so strange seeing Loki with a beard- taking the same deep breaths Tony is. He must not have been sneaking out then. Tony may have assumed that because he had his powers all along, but that's not the face of a man who regularly gets to see the outside, see this kind of outside. Nature in its rawest form. Tony wants to say something to that extent, but soft bleating and the chime of a bell distracts him.

 

"Mountain goats?" He nearly trips over his own feet following the sound. "You're kidding me right? This _is_ a path meant for goats and not people!"

 

Fortunately, the mountain isn't all that steep here and Tony manages to make his way down without breaking his neck. The narrow path fans out onto a meadow, not like meadows he's seen before. It is a landscape of low grasses and moss, but for the mountain goats, it appears to be good enough because there is about a dozen of them close by and many, many more strewn across the landscape in lumps of fluffy beige.

 

"They are sheep, Stark, not goats." Loki joins him, his descent a lot more controlled, but looking at the guy, Tony's sure he's not far from running through the sheep and planting his face in one of their furs. At least, Tony likes to imagine that. He chuckles to himself and Loki looks at him and shakes his head.

 

"Fine, sheep," Tony concedes, "so, there's a farmer nearby? With a dog? Food? A car to get us back to civilization?"

 

"No farmer," Loki overlooks the flock, "they roam free and sometimes, their owners joins the herd for the season to watch over them."

 

"You have a herd of sheep."

 

"I never said I was their owner."

 

"Yeah, until I get a credit card statement that says Herd of Sheep, 68,000 dollars."

 

“44, 725 dollars and 37 cents with the exchange rate actually.”

 

"You spent almost 45,000 dollars on sheep?" Tony gapes, or tries to. He isn't exactly surprised. "So how much of my money have you burnt through in the past three years?"

 

"Four million seven thousand and four, approximately, depending on several exchange rates and investment returns." Loki smiles, self-satisfied and the beard, yeah it's not so strange after all. He looks at home here, on a mountain, with a bunch of sheep basking in the solitude of nature.

 

"That's a lot of money."

 

"You're a billionaire. You make more than that in a week."

 

"Still it's my money."

 

"Should have protected it better." Loki grins and when did he end up this close? "But if you insist, I gift my sheep to you." He turns and extends his arm towards the herd. "As a gesture of my good will."

 

"If you stole my money to buy sheep, they're technically my sheep all along." He's smiling, amused because it doesn't matter. It's just money and if it kept Loki from trying to take over New York again then it was money well-spent.

 

"Well, if that is the case, I do hope you like Manet."

 

"Ballerinas?"

 

"Ballerinas."

 

"You're a terrible person."

 

Something changes. Loki tenses. The lighthearted nature of their exchange flies out across the meadow and all Tony can do is watch and wonder why.

 

"I am not a person." Loki says, finite, convinced that's the truth. "I'm a monster to be caged."

 

"That's not true." Tony doesn't know what else to say. It all sounds kind of unfortunate and patronizing. "Everyone deserves a second chance." It appears Tony's going for the patronizing and cheesy route then.

 

"I killed a lot of people, Stark. I've tried to take over your precious planet and more than that, I nearly committed genocide. You know all that."

 

"Yeah but you didn't to both."

 

"Because I was stopped."

 

"I killed people, too. Not with my own hands, but the weapons I made? The illegal trades I ignored because it was the easy thing to do? That's all on me. But I got a second chance and I took it." He sighs. "And squandered it apparently. You're right about the cage thing. Trapped in my own real estate, in my own personal heaven all so that I don't allow myself to see that I have nothing. I don't have the Avengers. I don't create anything. I haven't been in the R&D labs in six months. All I do is drink and hope that maybe one day, my liver finally gives up and this nightmare ends."

 

A few beats pass and to Tony's surprise, Loki touches his shoulders with his hands and stands in front of him and looks him straight in the eyes.

 

"Anthony," he says, voice neutral but firm, "I believe you are the only person on this planet that could rival my penchant for melodrama."

 

Tony doesn't want to laugh. He'd just opened up about feeling trapped in his own life and Loki isn't supposed to just make that all go away by calling him a drama llama. And yet here they are, laughing on a meadow on a mountain. No one else knows they're there. No one else knows the freedom they found and that in and of itself is so amazing, Tony could shout it from the mountain tops.

 

"Thank you," he finally says when he catches his breath, "thank you."

 

The moment is so brief to the outsider it would have lasted no more than a second or two. It is so brief that maybe it doesn't exist at all but to Tony and Loki who find themselves in a moment that seems to pause everything around them. Loki's smile, his laughter, the ability to find some kind of mirth in a life he doesn't believe he deserves. He's so close to Tony, he can feel his presence, his warmth and then he realizes one of Loki's hands is still on his shoulder. He doesn't care in that moment, doesn't care about the consequences of his actions, he just steps forward because he needs an outlet for all the emotions he's feeling and kissing Loki seemed like the logical thing to do.

 

Jasmine disagreed. Tony will always recognize Jasmine from now on. She's the one with the bell. She's also the one that decided that her place was directly between Tony's feet. How she had gotten there without either of them noticing her bell, neither of them will ever know. What Tony will know is that taking a step when a 200-pound sheep decides to step between you and the ground is something that doesn't work. He hits the ground in a flurry of sheep, because Jasmine obviously had brought friends, and laughter because this possibly is the most ridiculous thing that's ever happened to him. Loki agrees because the guy laughs again and is nearly taken out as well but he manages to stay upright as the miniature herd passes through satisfied in the knowledge that they ruined a moment and most certainly cockblocked Tony right then and there.

 

 

 

"Come on, Anthony," Loki grabs Tony's hand and helps him up, "the sun will set soon and we both prefer you make it down the mountain alive."

 

"You're not going to keep me here to herd my sheep?" Tony grins, but the moment has passed, and fortunately either Loki hasn't noticed or he's letting it go. Either way, Tony is relieved. Also, home, home to warm rugs, marble floors, leather couches; home to bourbon on ice, expensive restaurant food, perpetual take-out, and unlimited parties; home to his life, his comfort.

 

"If you prefer I ask for a ransom, but we both know I have no need for money." He smiles and produces Tony's credit card from his back pocket.

 

"Yeah because you have _my_ money."

 

"I brought it in case you wanted to return home."

 

Oh.

 

They don't linger on that awkward moment. Instead, Loki hands Tony his credit card and leads the way off the mountain. It doesn't get much easier and a few times, it looks like they're going down sheer drops without safety equipment. Loki's powers are a bit of comfort though, seeing as he doesn't want Tony dead. It's still nerve wracking for Tony to try and force his body over a particularly steep ledge, even though he knows he'll be able to make it. He also knows he will be incredibly sore the next day, Loki's powers be damned. He can already feel his thighs and abs screaming again under the demands they haven't experienced in so long. When he gets home, he's going to start working out again, just in case Loki decides to kidnap him once more.

 

The sun sets in a spectacle of oranges and purples painting the clouds that have drawn in. Tony doesn't remember a time he has seen such a colourful sunset that wasn't in part obscured by haze. It's different out here, the air is clear and crisp. They drink water directly from little streams that flow down the mountain near them. It's sweet and cold and amazing. In the distance on their climb down, Tony can see hot springs but when he asks about them, Loki urges him on to continue. Daylight is fading too fast and they have to hurry if they want to finish their descent before the last light disappears.

 

They don't quite make it all the way before it is dark, but low enough that the slopes are only a gentle roll and the flashlight Loki had packed does the trick to guide their way to the road. The road. Tony stands on asphalt like he hasn't seen any on months. It's spongy, weird, and still oddly warm.

 

"Cars may not travel this road frequently, but if we follow it to the Ring Road, perhaps we will improve our luck." Tony can barely see Loki in the dark now. Only the glow of the flash light shows him where the guy is. "Come, Stark, just a little further and you shall be on your way home."

 

Home doesn't seem so exciting now that Tony walks beside Loki along the narrow, but paved and clearly lined road. Above them, the stars are hidden by clouds but Tony could imagine the sight to be spectacular. He'll have to come back when Loki hopefully invites him along again.

 

“So, you're going to become one with sheep herding once I'm on my way home?”

 

"Perhaps." He makes a soft noise Tony can't place. "I may stay here for a week, perhaps two and then..." He trails off. He fucking trails off instead of finishing his sentence. It makes Tony mad as much as it creates a ball in his chest and suddenly he has hard time swallowing.

 

"You don't have any plans to go back." He says and it's hard to say. Once he goes back to New York, he's never going to see Loki again. His reluctant prisoner but mostly roommate at this point will be gone. Forever.

 

"I don't." Loki confirms. "I can't. I- I can't stay. I have tried to make amends but I'm-"

 

"Trapped."

 

"Yes."

 

They continue on in silence for quite some time. What is there left to say? Tony isn't going to change Loki's mind about leaving because going back would mean he would go back to a prison, to a cell, a limbo where he would be kept indefinitely. Sure, it would be comfortable, but so is Tony's lifestyle. Comfortable. It is nothing more than that. And in the end, a comfortable cell is still a cell.

 

So, in silence they walk connected by nothing but their breaths in the darkness and the icy glow of the LEDs ahead of them. There's a tiny voice in the darkness, a whisper on the wind. Maybe it's the lack of food or maybe the alcohol withdrawal is kicking in earlier than he'd expected. _Anthony._ Softly whispered, it could be anything if his full name wasn't three syllables and rather distinct in sound. He pauses in his step and turns. _Anthony._ It's clearer now and Loki should have heard it. Tony takes a few steps toward the voice, away from the road, toward a rocky incline. _Anthony._ If he walks just a little further, he should be able to see. The voice is closer with every step he takes.

 

“Come,” Loki continues walking as if he doesn't need the light to see, as if he doesn't hear the voice on the wind. “It is not much further.”

 

“I heard something.” _Anthony!_ “'kay, tell me you can hear that, because if you can't I'm hearing voices and that's from what I remember not a good sign.”

 

“I can hear them.” Tony isn't sure whether to be relieved or possibly begin to worry. “They are trying to lure you away, because they know my power.”

 

“They? You- what?”

 

“Elves.” Loki says so matter-of-fact that Tony decides it is best to try and find his way back to the guy. He's not particularly in the mood to be lured anywhere.  Though, those voices... they don't _sound_ as though they would hurt Tony. He pauses again. _Anthony._

 

“Why are they calling me now?” He looks into the darkness, tries to see where the voices come from. Shines the light to help, but as he points it, the beam flickers and darkness settles around him. An unease creeps up his throat.

 

“They have called you since I brought you to the mountain,” Loki's voice is still calm, but there's an edge in there that Tony can only hear in total darkness. “It is only now that you have opened your heart to hear them.” The 'because you don't want to go back home' is silent.

 

Tony startles at the touch on his arm, raises the flashlight ready to defend himself. And yet, he almost hopes that whatever elves there live in these mountains had decided that luring Tony isn't working and to take him away themselves. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. He relaxes into the touch, but soon realizes that he is not whisked away back into the mountains but rather gently pulled toward the road, by Loki's hand. _Anthony._ His body resists, if only for the fraction of a moment.

 

“It is your choice.” Loki says quietly and lets go of Tony's arm. “I will not stop you if you want to go with them and I will not change your mind if you wish to return home.”

 

Those are shitty choices, he wants to tell Loki, but can't. Because what does he have to follow up with that? Where else is he going to-

 

“You could have asked, you know.” He shakes the flash light which turns on again in Loki's face. “You could have asked 'Hey, Tony, I'm not feeling this imprisoned roommate situation, so I'm going to leave. You don't seem to have much going on for you anymore either, want to come along?' But no, you just up and leave and then drag me along to this crazy place!” He takes a deep breath and looks at Loki. “I realized, if you'd just let me fall, the others? They would have been sad yes, but deep down inside, they would have been relieved. No more babysitting or having to worry if I'll end up drinking myself to death the next time I leave the tower. They would be _relieved_ if I died.” He wants to ask Loki if he knows what that's like but Loki's face speaks volumes. Of course he knows.

 

“Come with me.” Those are not the words Tony's expected to hear next from Loki. They should have a discussion over this, talk things out, come to some sort of agreement what this entails.

 

“Okay,” Tony nods ignoring the calls of _Anthony_ and the part of his brain that demands he be rational. “Fuck it, what else is there, yeah, I mean I have questions but yeah, I will. Just, do you take requests? I mean are you going straight to the other side of the universe or can we start with some hot springs? I need a bath.”

 

“Yes,” Loki stands close beside Tony and Tony almost wants to bet that's relief of the guy's face. He also wants to believe that Loki's next words will be 'I do take requests', but he should know better. “You do require a bath. You stink.” At least Tony can hear and kind of see the smile playing around Loki's lips. He's already thrown caution to the wind, so it only makes sense that he closes what little distance is left between them, grabs Loki's jacket, and pulls him down into a kiss.

 

 


End file.
